Nehamack Chronicles
by Shadowspeed2020
Summary: Nehemack.  A beautiful land where war is a constant threat between the six cities.  As events unfurl, the most unlikely heroes will rise, fighting to bring peace, while threatened by an ancient enemy
1. Tyson and Shadia:Ready Steady Go

The country of Nehamack. A country divided into six main cities, each city connected by five highways, each one leading to a different city. Despite the natural beauty and general peace, it's a country with high tensions, a war between all cities a very real threat.

To keep communication between the cities, each city has Couriers. Like unsung heroes, Couriers carry important packages or documents between cities. Each city has an Express Courier, someone who does the job the quickest.

While science and technology are prevalent in the country, every so often, someone is born with supernatural abilities which defy the limits of science's understanding. Despite this, people with these abilities are treated as outcasts, never fully able to integrate into society due to prejudice and fear.

* * *

The city of Lehema, well known for its old-fashioned architecture and many flowers. Situated by the sea, it was also well known for its seafood and tranquil beaches. It was looking out over one of the harbours stood one particular citizen.

Tyson Askew, Express Courier for Lehema. Being one of few people born with the supernatural, his speed was well known, the only Courier who could leave Lehema and be at his destination within twenty four hours. His boyishly long brown hair was caught in the gentle breeze, as was his long blue jacket. He wore a darker blue shirt and black jeans, black converse adorning his feet.

"So peaceful," he sighed to himself. Whereas most people of fifteen would be in school, he would be found standing at the harbour, gazing over sapphire seas. Being the only person with powers in the whole city, it was easy to feel lonely.

His peaceful thoughts were broken as a small device on his shoulder bag went off. Pressing a button, he sighed again, turning and jogging to the city centre. He passed very few people, no-one paying him any attention. Most adults simply ignored him. It was people his age that were his problem.

"_One of these days I'll prove them wrong. I know it,"_ he mentally determined, smiling at the thought. Arriving at the Embassy, he rushed straight in, not needing to show ID. Easy enough if moving too fast for the naked eye.

He quickly found the office he was called to, opening the door and walking inside. He paid little attention to his surroundings, focusing only on his instructions.

"This package is to go to Necrolas. Leave it in the main sorting office on arrival," the woman behind a desk said monotonously.

"Just like every package to Necrolas," Tyson muttered, walking out the door and out of the Embassy. He walked slowly to the main gates, enjoying the warm breeze and clear blue sky. He always hated being in Necrolas. He'd heard the stories of how the odd courier would vanish after going there.

"Hey speed freak," shouted a mocking voice. Tyson looked to the gates, seeing the group of teens moving towards him.

"I'm a little busy, so I'd get your asses out of the way," Tyson taunted, stopping and crouching, ready to run.

"Why, what're you gonna do?" another boy mocked, still moving closer. Tyson simply rolled his eyes, his muscles tense.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he sighed, going from crouch to sprint in less than a second, the gust of wind he made throwing the boys from their feet.

"_Idiots. They never learn,"_ he mentally chuckled, running down the Lem-Nec Highway. As the air rushed past him, his speed increased, strange energy running through his body, keeping him moving with no exhaustion anytime soon.

* * *

After running for about an hour, he heard the distinct noise of a hover-scooter behind him. Looking back, he saw the floating squares of metal with a handle sticking out. It was the people on the scooters that worried him.

Bandits were a constant problem on every highway. While they wouldn't be found too close to any city, they seemed to be moving closer. Couriers were their preferred targets, given the often valuable packages they delivered.

"Pull over freak! We might let ya live!" one of them, clearly the leader, yelled, hovering alongside Tyson while holding a crude melee weapon.

"Fat chance!" Tyson retorted, looking around as each bandit, around seven in total, surrounded him, trying to box him in. While this was a normally lethal tactic, Tyson always had one ace up his sleeve.

Concentrating, he felt energy build up around him, until it got to a point a light blue glow surrounded him. Grinning, both his feet left the ground as he thrust his hand downward, a dome of light blue energy exploding, knocking the bandits from their scooters while Tyson leapt into the trees on one side of the highway, vanishing into the forest.

"How many idiots do I have to deal with today? Too damn many," he mumbled to himself, looking back to the road as the bandits cursed and left, not bothering to pursue him. "Too easy. Still, their closer to Lehema than last time," he mumbled, about to return to the road when he heard something.

"_Curiosity killed the cat,"_ his mind told him, until he heard the noise again. _"But then, I'm definitely not a cat,"_ he shrugged, jumping down and heading towards the noise, keeping low in case it was more bandits.

Ducking behind a fallen tree, he peeked over, ducking back down as someone walked past. Looking back over, he found he was staring at a bandit camp. Almost right in front of him was a fire, bandits crowded round it while one of them cooked. Further away from him were their tents as well as a long pole.

Sitting at the pole was a girl around his age with lightly tanned skin and curly hair. Her attire was made up of a purple top, pale jeans and dark purple converse. Her arms were tied behind the pole, making it clear she was their prisoner.

"_I'm so in over my head. If I leave that girl, who knows what those bandits plan to do with her. But how do I take on the whole camp?"_ he wondered, glancing around the whole camp. An idea formed in his head as he crouched down, face a picture of concentration.

"_The path of the quick is that of the wind. The path of the patient is that of the stone. To combine those paths is to bring great strength of will, body and mind,"_ he mentally chanted, his mantra replaying in his head as he ignored what went on behind him.

At first, things started to vibrate quicker and quicker, eventually flying towards the pot over the fire. Anything that wasn't tied down flew towards it, a bi-pedal shape forming, held together by threads of glowing cyan. The golem stood, swinging its mish-mashed arm around. Bandits were either too shocked to move while others tried to fight the thing.

"Perfect," Tyson muttered, breathing deeper and quicker as he ran to the girl. The girl, who was watching the golem, tried to struggle free from her bonds, stopping when he pulled out a knife and cut them.

"You alright?" he questioned, glancing between her and the golem as it started falling apart. Before she could answer, it fell apart, everyone now focused on them. In the blink of an eye, Tyson picked the girl up bridal style before disappearing through the trees.

* * *

After two hours of running, Tyson finally slowed to a stop, turning off the highway into a small clearing. Letting the girl down, he put down his bag and started making camp, while the girl stood there, trying to get her bearings.

"So, you okay?" Tyson asked, already halfway through erecting a tent. A small burner had been set out, as well as a small bag with food and water.

"I'm fine. Who are you?" the girl asked, sitting down.

"Well, I could lie and say I'm a devilishly handsome superhero or tell the truth and say I'm a courier," he responded, a smirk on his face at his joke.

"Is there a difference between couriers and heroes these days? I'm Shadia Wilkinson," she laughed, stretching out her arms.

"Tyson Askew, Express Courier for Lehema. Also speedster and telekinetic," he introduced. Yawning, he sat down, having erected the tent and laid out two sleeping bags.

"I noticed. I'm a flyer and meister myself," Shadia explained, lying back and staring up at the stars.

"Meister?" Tyson asked, his curiosity evident.

"It means I can use a special energy to form a particular kind of weapon. Observe," she sighed, raising her arms as cyan buzz-saw blades appeared on her arms. She fired them into the trees, unaffected by their loud screech as they spun, cutting off a few tree branches before they returned, disappearing upon hitting her arm.

"Whoa. That is cool. Where there any other people with abilities from your home?" Tyson asked, sitting up. It was only after a pause that Shadia answered.

"I came from a village called Lahi. It was a small village, not far from the Lem-Tamo highway. A few weeks ago, bandits attacked, wiping out the village and everyone in it. When they found I had powers, they figured they'd get cash from selling me in Necrolas for experimentation," she whispered, huddling her knees to her chest as cyan wings unfolded from her back, wrapping around her.

"I'm sorry. I know what it's like to lose someone to bandits. My parents were both couriers traveling to Tamola when they were attacked. Two days later, their bodies were found, stripped of anything valuable. I promised I'd avoid sharing that fate, so started learning how to use a sword. I don't have it with me, considering I'm still learning," Tyson sighed. He'd moved from his spot to sit closer to his winged companion, his arm a comforting presence around her shoulder.

"We should get some sleep if we're going to Necrolas in the morning," Shadia sighed after a few minutes. Tyson nodded, both of them getting up silently and getting into their sleeping bags, falling asleep quickly.

* * *

The sun was already high in the sky by the time the two of them arrived in Necrolas, a large, modern city without skyscrapers, a few warehouses among the tallest buildings.

"I always hated hearing about the stories of this city. Is it true that so many people have disappeared?" Shadia asked, keeping close to Tyson.

"I've heard every story about this place and seen too many Lehema couriers not make it back. I think that, if they're all true, then I'm just lucky to be gifted with speed," he muttered, walking cautiously through the street towards the Embassy. A brute of a man stood as guard, beady eyes surveying the whole street.

"Hold it. The girl waits out here," he ordered as the two teens got within earshot.

"No way. I didn't rescue her from bandits to have her disappear here," Tyson growled, already in battle stance. Taking the taunt, the guard charged forward, attempted a shoulder barge, when Tyson ducked, swinging his leg at the guards and sweeping them out from under him. As the guard fell, Tyson's hands glowed cyan before a soft boom echoed as he thrust his hands forward, knocking the guard flying into a wall and out cold.

"Come on, let's deliver this damn thing and get outta here," Tyson muttered, the two of them jogging through the doors of the Embassy. Taking a right, Tyson pushed open the door, slowing to a walk in front of the sorting office booth. Setting the package on the counter, he rang a bell and turned to leave, Shadia close behind as they left, passing the knocked out guard.

"I'll fly. Don't go too fast now," Shadia warned, opening her wings as they burst past the Necrolas gates.

"Don't worry, I won't. That is if you don't fly too far in front," Tyson chuckled, already breaking into a sprint as Shadia took to the skies, the two of them heading for Lehema.


	2. Cody and Rachel:Strength

The city of Necrolas. Out of the six cities in Nehamack, it is the one where many people try to avoid. With more and more stories of people disappearing inside the city gates spreading each day, everyone tries to keep the city out of mind.

Crime in the city is the lowest of the country, due to these stories. A corrupt police force hands over anyone they catch to scientists, all too many killed during experimentation, while others are simply cast aside to die, too weak to survive for long.

* * *

Her eyes were hollow as she was strapped to the operating table. She was almost oblivious to the way the scientists sliced her open, injecting different chemicals into her body, then sewing her back up again.

"This specimen has exceeded all expectations. But we can't risk her escaping if the drugs wear off," one of the men in white coats whispered as a large man held her by her hair. Due to the drugs in her system, she couldn't feel a thing.

"There's canisters used to store poison gas. They're near enough impenetrable, combined with the prisoner jacket, she won't be going anywhere," a second white coat responded calmly, as though she couldn't hear a word.

* * *

Cody Granger was, by most definitions a thief. By law and the police, his current 'occupation' was criminal. Yet he saw himself as a Necrolas Robin Hood, stealing from storekeepers corrupted by the police and scientists to feed the less fortunate, who would otherwise starve or disappear.

As it was, he was running from police, his backpack filled with various foods. His age of sixteen gave him an advantage, as well as his supernatural abilities.

"Out run by a simple thief? How do you even have jobs if this is all you've got?" he mocked, his torn coat flapping in the breeze. His black hair was windswept, his light brown skin covered with dirt and sweat from living rough. His glasses somehow stayed over his brown eyes as he dodged gunshots, hot lead ripping new holes in his dark yellow hooded jacket.

"Surrender. You're not going to get away with this crime!" one officer yelled as the chase turned towards some alleyways. Grinning, Cody simply ran between the buildings, deliberately picking an alley with a dead end.

"Yeah, like you can catch me," Cody yawned, running halfway up the wall. At the peak of his run, he leapt to grab the edge of a building, flipping himself onto the roof, leaving the ground officers in the dust. He paused for a few seconds, catching his breath, before hearing the whining of police hover scooters.

"Again with this?" he sighed, starting his sprint across rooftops, dodging machine gunfire as he veered towards the end of the street, leaping as though to dive into the arms of waiting ground police.

"See ya!" he yelled down, grinning like a madman as he shot forward like a bullet, bursting into the sky without wings. His ability to fly without obvious signs of propulsion was unique. A telekinetic could fly, but that was through mind over matter. For Cody, flying was a simple as breathing.

With police hover scooters still on his tail, Cody climbed higher, possessing the advantage of being able to fly into the stratosphere with little effort, while the average hover scooter could barely reach the clouds.

Bursting out of a cloud bank, Cody stopped; certain he'd evaded the police again. Stretching, he looked at the evening sunshine, the sun starting to sink below the horizon. He enjoyed being able to fly this high, watching the world pass by underneath. Yet it was at times like that he felt lonely. No-one else could possibly join him this high.

"Man, the police are getting more aggressive. They don't usually open fire unless I'm actually flying to taunt them," he mumbled, thinking out loud before looking down again. The clouds had blown past, letting him see the police had given up on trying to catch him.

"_Well, time to dive,"_ he mentally whooped before letting himself drop, flipping round so he went down head first. He enjoyed the rush of adrenaline that ran through his veins during a dive, his tattered jacket, dark green shirt and jeans flapping in the wind. As the ground grew ever closer, his flight power kicked in as he righted himself, pulling up just inches from the hard concrete.

"Best one yet!" he whooped, soaring over buildings before landing on a roof overlooking one of the warehouses. Looking over the area, he noticed the group of white coats standing there. No-one seemed to be paying any attention in his general direction, so for curiosity's sake, he floated down and moved closer, his sneakered feet silent as he moved like a shadow.

"….sure this will contain her? If she breaks out, we could have a very major incident," one of the white coats exclaimed, talking in hushed tones.

"If the drugs wear off, the prison suit will hold her, and if she gets out of that, that container can take a bomb hitting it. She's not going anywhere," a second white coat reassured before the two of them walked off, no-one noticing the young thief in the shadows.

"_A person's inside that thing? She must be powerful to have the white coats so worried," _he mused, mulling the information in his head. Unlike many people in the country, Cody knew the reasoning behind the white coats' experiments. Attempts to turn human beings into living weapons, almost as though Necrolas was about to start a war.

"Rescue this girl or forget about this? Better to think about it while I take these goods to the Drop-off. Just hope I make the right choice," he mumbled, disappearing from view.

Emerging onto the main street, he walked quickly, pulling his hood up as he made his way to the poorer area of town, keeping his backpack close as he ran across open streets, only slowing down in alleyways.

"Hey, there's Cody!" a young boy, no older than six, shouted, attracting the attention of everyone in the Drop-off. Cody grinned, taking off his backpack and unzipping it, revealing the main pocket to be stuffed with food. Everyone lined up, waiting to get their fair share of the goods, letting the elderly, ill and weak go first.

"Reapers!" someone yelled, everyone sprinting back to their houses. Cody stood firm, fists clenched, ready for a fight.

"Jay, take the food to your house. Once I deal with this, have your mom and dad continue handing it out," he ordered, giving his bag to a young boy. With the kid safe, Cody turned to face the youths, hover an inch off the ground.

"Get lost freak, and give us the food!" the leader yelled, wielding an old pipe. The Reapers were a gang of youths, dedicated to taking the spoils Cody tried to give the people of the Drop-off.

"Fat chance losers. I'm in a hurry and really must be going. Now get lost," Cody ordered. One of the Reapers laughed, charging forward with a plank of wood, only to get knocked flying by bright yellow beams. The rest began to charge, only for the five of them to get sent flying by the same beams, their source being Cody's eyes.

* * *

As the leader opened his eyes, he knew Cody had vanished. Though he couldn't see anything past the loaded shotgun pointed into his face.

* * *

Standing outside the warehouse from earlier, Cody watched guard patrols wander past, loaded rifles on their backs and pistols in side holsters. Choosing his moment carefully, he leapt down to street level, lifting a man-hole cover and dropping into the sewers, all before a guard wandered into view.

"_Entry and exit through sewer system. My most often used trick and yet the police don't catch on?"_ he mentally laughed, floating above the sewage while his eyes lit the gloom, casting an almost eerie light over everything. After five minutes of floating, he found his entry point.

"…So it's the middle container that has the girl?"one guard asked, walking over the man-hole cover inside the building.

"Yep. Don't think about opening it though. Doctor's orders," his companion sighed, both oblivious to the young thief's presence, even as he hit them both in the head with blinding yellow beams. Silently replacing the cover, Cody floated through the warehouse, keeping his eyes open for the container.

"Middle one. Means there should be an odd number of containers," he whispered to himself, peeking around a corner. He saw one guard standing in front of the middle container out of seven. A longer look revealed a handprint scanner on the container, as well as an alarm button near the guard's position.

Like a cobra, he kicked the guard's legs out at the knees, distracting the guard long enough to put himself between the button and the guard. The guard was quick to recover, bringing his rifle round to aim.

"Never fight a thief," Cody grinned, slamming a knee between the guard's legs, winding him. Ever being the comedian, he grabbed him into a headlock, giving him a nougie, before spinning the guard around, swinging his foot into the guard's rear. With the comedy beating over, Cody grabbed the guard's arm, putting the hand onto the scanner.

With the hissing of steam, the container opened out like a blooming flower, a faint white light emanating from the centre. Stepping back, Cody looked at the girl who'd been imprisoned inside.

Her dark hair was somewhere between brown and black, a stark contrast to the white, strait-jacket like outfit she was wearing. Her arms were pinned to her sides by black straps, a similar strap keeping a part of the jacket over her mouth. The outfit also had her legs strapped together, preventing any form of escape.

"Holy crap," Cody gasped, his wide eyes meeting the girl's emotionless ones. All time seemed to stop before an alarm blared. Cody glanced at the alarm button, seeing the guard had crawled over to it.

"Hold on," Cody shouted, flying at the girl and picking her up, immediately flying back to the sewer entrance as booted feet stamped through the warehouse. Lifting the metal disk with his foot, he jumped through, the lid's clatter muffled by guards running to find their missing prisoner.

* * *

The warm glow of an open fire lit the room of the abandoned home, casting a crimson glow over the two occupants. With narrow, tired eyes, Cody looked over at the girl. She was still unconscious, but he'd undone the straps that bound her.

"You must be really important to the white coats," he yawned, the day's events finally catching up to him. He lay down, his eyes slowly closing, until gunfire echoed like thunder.

"Damn it. If you're so powerful, we could really use another conduit," he mumbled, using the white coats name for someone with powers. Jumping up, he ran to the window, watching as the city's police opened fire, gunning down the innocent people of the Drop-off while the fortunate ran.

Without a sound, his eyes started glowing like twin stars, drawing attention to his position, before he unleashed all his anger into that single devastating attack, knocking officers flying or blinding them.

"Take that," he gasped, exhaustion taking over as he fell to his knees. Any officers still standing aimed up at him, only to aim at the roof as the cry of a raven exploded from there. Cody looked up, eyes widening in shock.

Standing there, perfectly balanced on a weather vane, was the girl her white outfit a stark contrast to the night sky. Her eyes were a dark blue, a burning ring of purple around the pupil. Behind her were the largest wings Cody had ever seen, the moon bringing out the purples and blues on the raven feathers.

Wordlessly, she jumped down, her hands glowing with purple fury, before blinding beams of black light tore through the air, a loud screech resonating through the night. Any police officer unaffected by Cody's strike was now on the ground, clutching ears and eyes, either blinded or deaf, while others clutched at bloodied wounds.

"Run," she whispered. Her voice was low, but the wind carried that single word, cutting the silence like a blade. It was darkly amusing, watching officers run, crawl and drag themselves away. With most of the gone, the girl turned to Cody, who had found comfort lying in a bush.

"A conduit huh?" Cody questioned, his heavy, tired breathing a sign of fatigue, while his grin was full of energy.

"You could say that. My name is Rachel Talwyn," the girl said, looking down at the tried thief.

"Cody Granger. Best thief in Necrolas and modern day Robin Hood," Cody chuckled, letting the girl sling his arm over her shoulder. As the two walked back into the abandoned building, the people of the Drop-off slowly started returning.

* * *

It was well into the afternoon, grey clouds covering the golden sun, threatening to burst over the city. A lone figure hid in the alleyway closest to the city gates, looking over the Nec-Tamo highway.

Her attire had changed. Instead of the white prisoner outfit, she now wore a dark red top under a dark brown jacket. Her jeans were blue and worn, several holes threatening to rip on her knees. Black combat boots were on her feet, not that she'd be using them much. Slits in the back of her shirt and jacket allowed her wings to easily unfurl.

"Did you take care of business?" Rachel asked as her black haired companion jumped down from the roof, landing silently.

"Yep. These people will survive without us here," Cody replied, already floating above the ground. "Shall we go?" he asked, a grin plastered over his face.

"To Tamola," Rachel nodded, her wings unfurling in a heartbeat. As Cody started to ascend, her mighty wings began flapping, lifting her in one swift beat, before the two fliers were truly airborne, enjoying the sensation of flight.


	3. Lucas and Gale:Papermoon

Tamola. A city that was practically a museum with people living in it. Every building looked like it had been plucked from the Victorian era, hiding the modern utilities behind ancient architecture. Crime is virtually non-existent, due to the skills of the police force guarding the city.

However, with olden architecture come olden beliefs. Specifically the belief in witchcraft. A minority of citizens believe, and those that do are willing to fight an army of police just to execute one person they believe is a witch.

* * *

Her lungs were desperate for air, every second taking her further from the water's surface. The shackles on her wrists were chained to massive weights, keeping her from precious oxygen. Struggling was pointless, so she simply gave in, almost opening her mouth to let the consuming liquid fill her.

She never got the chance as she felt herself rise, the shackles gone and arms around her, carrying her to the surface. As her head burst through, she greedily gulped in oxygen while her saviour carried her to the shore.

* * *

Lucas Dorn, the youngest member of the police force at sixteen, was still one of the more respected, due to his meister abilities. To any criminals and civilians alike, his mastery of fighting with twin handguns was without equal. Despite this, he was somewhat content with patrolling the park, enjoying the usual peace and quiet.

That peace was disrupted by a small gang, all surrounding a girl around his age. He didn't get a good look at her though, before they threw her into the small lake, walking off and laughing mockingly. He hadn't even hesitated as he leapt into the water. As he swam, he pulled out his twin guns, shooting the shackles on the girl's arms.

Now on the shore, he got a better look at the girl. Her shoulder length dark brown hair glistened in the moonlight, her chocolate brown eyes looking around frantically for her assailants. She was wearing a simple dark red top under a denim blue jacket, blue skinny jeans and black plimsolls. The only thing that linked remotely to witchcraft was a cloak that reached her ankles.

"Stupid police. Getting in the way of our tasks," one man from the earlier group growled, the rest of the group behind him. There were at least eight of them, with weapons ranging from branches to knives.

"Simply doing my job. Now back off before I place all of you under arrest," Lucas stated calmly, reaching back for his holstered guns.

"Ha! A kid like you against eight of us? Even with those little things," the man mocked, swinging his knife tauntingly. He twirled it in his hand, only to feel a strong stinging sensation in his hand.

"I'll ask you again. Back off," Lucas ordered, guns in hand with smoke rising from one. The bullets they fired were pure energy, leaving a painful sting if they hit a target in the hand or leg. A shot to the head or chest, however, could knock a man out for hours.

Lucas sighed as the men charged, on his feet and guns blazing in a heartbeat, hitting the gang in their legs or arms. One shot hit a man in the family jewels, the unbearable pain rendering him immobile and gasping for air.

Despite taking out half the gang, they didn't retreat, forcing Lucas to go for close combat. Dodging the swing of a bat, he slammed the butt of one pistol into a man's skull, before aiming at another's chest and firing. Ducking out of a branch's path, he swiped the attacker's legs out from under him, shooting the last gang member in the leg and head.

Getting up, he glanced at himself. His usually gelled hair was messy, his uniform blue shirt and black trousers covered in dust, his black shoes covered in dirt. He made his way back to the girl he'd rescued, slightly tired from the fight.

"Duck!" the girl shouted, thrusting her hand forward. As Lucas dove to the ground, orange lightning arcing from her fingertips, shocking the men who had gotten back on their feet, rendering them unconscious.

"Wow. Are you really a witch?" Lucas asked, getting back on his feet.

"Sort of. I prefer the term sorceress, by the way," the girl sighed, still exhausted from almost drowning.

"Right. Let's get you home," Lucas muttered, helping her to her feet and letting her lead the way through the streets.

"So, can I know the name of my saviour?" the girl asked, turning to face the young officer.

"Lucas Dorn. And since you save me, what's the name of _my _saviour?" he questioned, now walking beside the young sorceress.

"Gale Foster. The only real witch in this entire city. Not that most people care," she shrugged, a yawn escaping her mouth.

"Well, for a _witch_, you seem like a nice girl," Lucas chuckled, also yawning. Tiredness was taking over, almost making him bump into Gale when she stopped outside a house.

"Since you look like a tired wreck, you can sleep on my couch," Gale sighed, opening the door and letting him in. The house was decorated like Lucas expected, a combination of normal teenage things and strange, mystical items. Lying on the couch, it didn't take long for Lucas to fall asleep, out cold in a matter of seconds.

"Must've had a tiring day," Gale mumbled, pulling a blanket over him before going upstairs to bed, only bothering to take off her cloak before collapsing on her bed, out in seconds.

* * *

Even with the curtains drawn, a thin shaft of morning sunlight found its way onto Lucas' face, waking him through irritation. As he sat up, he slowly noticed the smell drifting from where he assumed was the kitchen, stretching before getting up and investigating.

"Good morning officer," Gale laughed. Having forgone her cloak for an apron, she stood in front of an oven, frying pan in hand as she made pancakes.

"If it wasn't for the sunlight, this would have me up in a second," Lucas yawned, hungrily watching as she flipped each pancake onto a plate. He sat down at a table, eyes on the pancakes as she brought two plates over, setting one in front of him.

"Go on. It isn't poisoned or anything," Gale joked, taking off her apron and hanging it on the door. She sat down opposite him, knife and fork in hand as she watched him, eating in a way that balanced politeness and greediness. "Didn't you eat anything last night?" she asked, taking a bite.

"Not since yesterday afternoon. Paperwork meant I missed dinner before going on patrol and, well, you know the rest," Lucas shrugged before eating another bite.

"And do you have anything in particular to do today?" Gale questioned, rolling her eyes once he finished his breakfast.

"Just patrolling the city all morning into the afternoon, then I get the rest of the day off," Lucas explained, cleaning his mouth with a napkin.

"Mind if I join you? I've got nothing better to do and, given my reputation as an actual sorceress, I don't have anyone else in the city to be with," Gale asked, resting her elbows on the table after cleaning her mouth.

"Sure, I could use the company," Lucas shrugged.

* * *

Early in the morning, there is very rarely anything of interest going on if you're on the lookout for trouble. The early patrol was mainly to deal with anyone who'd left one of the local pubs or nightclubs the previous night and was still a good distance from home.

"How do you stand dealing with people that drunk?" Gale questioned, the hood of her cloak over her face while Lucas carried a hover board on his back. They had just spent the past hour escorting six drunken souls home.

"You have to admit, some of the things they say and do are funny," Lucas chuckled, leading their walk down the quiet street.

"I stopped laughing after one guy nearly threw up over me," Gale sighed, shuddering at the memory while glaring at Lucas as he held in laughter. Glancing ahead, she saw some of them men from the park. When they noticed her, she let electricity dance in her hand while her eyes glowed with violet flames. The men were quick to walk the other way.

"You made an impression on them," Lucas mumbled, keeping his eyes on the men.

"I wasn't the one who hit them with guns," she joked.

It was at that moment all hell seemed to break loose. Explosions rang out through the city, one sending the two teens flying into a building wall. Gale was first to get up, watching as bandits on hover scooters buzzed overhead. All too often, bandits raided the villages that lay between the six main cities. For them to attack one of the cities was the boldest move they'd made.

"A raid? On Tamola? I didn't think bandits were that bold," Lucas grunted, shakily getting to his feet. A bandit flew towards them, a machine gun mounted on the front of the scooter. The gun exploded into life, eating the building behind the two teens until Lucas fired his handguns, one shot hitting the machine gun itself while the second hit the bandit, knocking him from his scooter.

"I heard that bandits near Lehema were moving closer to the city. The bandits are definitely planning something," Gale shouted above the chaos, turning to face a small squad of their foe, her hands glowing like suns before she threw purple fireballs, the projectiles detonating on impact. Any bandits unaffected by the blasts were knocked out by a rush of orange tinted wind.

"But why? And where did they get police issued hover scooters from?" Lucas muttered, unleashing a barrage of energy rounds on a group of bandits on hover scooters, the flying machines crashing to the ground and crushing each other, their pilots landing in a separate heap.

"No idea! Let's worry about bringing them down before we interrogate them!" Gale yelled, orange lighting exploding from her fingers, shocking at least ten bandits unconscious, before unleashing deafening sonic blasts, dark blue energy a visual representation of the attack, sending five hover scooters flying.

"Not that I don't mind target practice, but how many are there?" Lucas shouted, his twin handguns merging together into a single rifle, the weapon taking out fifteen bandits. After mere minutes that dragged on like hours, the bandits finally began retreating, leaving surprisingly few behind for interrogation.

"Well, that went well," Gale gasped, out of breath. Her cloak was littered with bullet holes, while her clothes and arms were covered in small cuts from flying shrapnel. Lucas wasn't much different, his uniform covered in similar tears.

"Looks like they didn't cause much damage to the buildings, minus bullet holes. Let's hope very few got hurt," Lucas sighed, watching as an older police officer ran in their direction. "Sit-rep?" Lucas asked, being of higher rank.

"As far as we know, at least thirty casualties, fifteen minor injuries, twelve serious and three dead. So far no-one is reported missing, and all buildings suffered bullet damage. At least twelve buildings were affected by the explosions," the officer reported, saluting before running off to deliver and gather information.

"At least it wasn't worse," Gale sighed, watching as people started to come out into the street, looking at the chaos in disbelief.

"Tell me about it. Let's start helping with the clean-up, no doubt we'll be needed," Lucas muttered, the officer and the sorceress walking towards the city centre.


	4. Ashton and Ashley:Guilty Sky

In the centre of Nehamack, there lies a dormant volcano. There is also the city of Vulecan, a town built with castle-like walls and a blend of old fashioned and modern.

The city is governed by a royal family, whose heritage dates back many centuries. With the old system of nobles and knights, many people living there aren't as well of as the nobility. This has led to an increase in crime.

* * *

The air of royalty never left anyone, no matter where they went. This was a fact Ashley Manson knew all too well. This was why she walked down the street, her shoulder length dark red hair caught in the warm, gentle breeze. Her icy blue eyes were looking out for trouble. Ever since she started leaving the royal home, she'd learned to spot people stealing out of desperation or for kicks.

As such, her fiery red cape was like a warning to troublemakers, while her dark blue top, black jacket, blue jeans and rider boots portrayed her darker nature. Despite being a member of the royal family, she was the black sheep, due to how her parents had disappeared, leaving her with her aunt, who had married into royalty. Every day she listened for news of her parents, part of the reason she left her home.

An alarm blared through the street, people clearing a path for the young princess/vigilante as she ran, a single sword hidden under her cape while two were sheaved at her waist. She could see the store that had been robbed, as well as a gang of people her age running away from the scene.

"Typical spoilt brats," she muttered, giving chase. All too many boys her age would steal just for the fun of it, using either their influence or any special toys they had to escape the knights who acted as the police.

The gang of five turned into an alley, looking behind them as Ashley blocked their only means of escape.

"Let us go Manson!" one boy yelled, looking at her tauntingly. Sighing, Ashley simply walked towards them, a spark dancing in her eyes.

"Why would I do that? You ignited this fire yourselves, now prepare to face the flames," Ashley muttered, orange flames dancing in her palms and eyes. Instantly, flames erupted behind her, trapping the boys even more so than they already were.

"Please….don't hurt us," one boy whimpered, all five of them backed against the wall.

"I won't. Doubt your parents will feel as merciful as me though," she sighed, the flames dying away as she turned, allowing knights to arrest the gang.

* * *

It was while she lay in her room, bored, that she heard her uncle-in-law yelling at servants and anyone else who was in the room. He was the kind of man who picked a fight with everyone, even his own family. Mostly, he avoided arguing with her, considering how _heated_ one particular fight had gotten.

"Guess its dinner alone again," she sighed as someone knocked her door before entering, a servant bowing while carrying a dinner tray. "How many times have I said not to bow?" she questioned, staring the servant straight in the eye.

"Force of habit ma'am," the servant answered, setting the tray on a table and making his exit. Shaking her head, Ashley carried her food out onto her balcony, setting it down on her dining table.

"Lovely night for eating out," a male voice muttered. Smirking, Ashley looked at the tall, strong from of Ashton Athair, one of the knights that protected the city, as well as someone else with abilities. His attire was dark orange chest armour, arm guards, metal boots and shoulder armour, a black undershirt and blue jeans. His dark brown hair was caught in the breeze, sometimes falling over his eyes.

"Tell me about it. Uncle's on the warpath again," Ashley sighed, sitting down. The sun was setting, her balcony giving her an excellent view of the vast expanse of land outside the castle walls, as well as the five highways. Courier hover scooters flew in both directions along them.

"Remember that Lehema courier, the one with the super speed?" she questioned, taking a bite of her meal.

"The one that's scared of you after you nearly cooked him?" Ashton laughed, watching the highways as well.

"It was an accident. Those rich asses dodged too quickly for me to change the direction in time. At least he got out alive," she shrugged.

"Yeah, but still, every time I see him here, he's always looking over his shoulder," Ashton mumbled, his large swords in a V-shape on his back. His twin broadswords, as well as his ability to control magma, made him a fearsome fighter.

"Have you ever gotten the chance to leave the city?" Ashley whispered, leaning back and staring into the darkening sky, the first stars like pin-pricks in a black canvas. She could feel some of her power leave her, only for it to return when the sun rose.

"Nope. Your uncle made sure that only couriers and traders could leave here, and I doubt he'll change his mind anytime soon. With him in charge and the corruption in Necrolas and Vamhillen, no wonder there's the threat of war," Ashton sighed, standing like a watchful sentinel, his unofficial duty to guard the Vulecan princess.

"You know, I hear Lehema's gorgeous at this time of year," Ashley sighed, a single tear escaping her eye.

"I know. I'd give anything just to travel outside these city walls," he mumbled, adding a quick goodbye before jumping from the balcony down to a rooftop below.

"So long as you take me with you," Ashley mumbled, about to turn in for the night, when she heard yelling, turning and throwing a fireball into the sky. In seconds, Ashton had reappeared, ready for action. "Something's going on over there!" she shouted, pointing in the general direction.

With a silent nod, he turned and ran, jumping across rooftops before stopping, watching madness unfolding below him. Fellow knights he called comrades were now beating innocent civilians, placing them under aggressive arrest. While he didn't want to fight his comrades, his sense of chivalry won out.

"Stop this!" he yelled, his swords now in his hands, an orange line glowing up the centre. Jumping down, he faced at least five knights, all armed with various weapons.

"Keep out of this Ashton. You try and protect these criminals, we'll kill you," one knight sneered. The five of them were, to most knights, the most dishonourable, treating common people like their personal punching bags.

"If you were true knights, you'd know why I can't do that," Ashton muttered, slamming the hilt of his sword into a sixth knight's head as he snuck up behind him, the man crumpling to the ground. Turning to face his five foes, his swords sliced an arrow before blocking an attack from a battle axe, the blade of his swords as hot as magma, melting the axe head.

Pointing one of his swords straight in front of him, a burst of hot lava erupted from it, sending a second knight flying. The remaining three attempted to surround him, only to be knocked into the air as lava erupted underneath them, not hot enough to kill, but almost hot enough to melt their armour.

* * *

The next morning was dull, threatening a storm at some point in the week. A strong wind blew through Vulecan, chilling the city's inhabitants. One, however, was on the warpath, a raging storm of anger burning inside her.

Ashley had heard of what happened last night, only putting it off till morning due to being worn out. The wait, however, had only added to her fury.

The door to the royal throne room was almost off its hinges as she slammed it open, fire burning in her eyes as she looked at the man she called uncle.

"What were you thinking?" Ashley yelled, her icy blue eyes chilling the atmosphere while her powers heated the room. Her uncle, despite his authority, was visibly shaken by the tone of her voice.

"Those people were thieves. They steal from good, hardworking people…."

"Like hell they were! Don't give me that crap unless you want to burn!" Ashley snarled, ornamental candles in the room burning brighter with red flames rather than orange. While most people would be more polite in their outbursts before their ruler, Ashley didn't care what he'd do to her. She was, in perspective, the more powerful one.

"Open your eyes! These people are no better than the bandits outside our walls. The only good place for them is prison!" her uncle argued, rising from his throne.

"You and your nobles are the damn thieves! The good hardworking people are those you tax into poverty, while you stuff your face with luxury! And what kind of monster sends _knights _to beat and arrest innocent people? Do you have no humanity?" Ashley screamed, red flames burning in her hands and eyes as her rage fuelled her powers.

"A knight serves his ruler. And a princess should be seen and not heard! Perhaps some time in a cold cell will teach you your place," her uncle hissed as two knights from last night walked up, trapping the elemental's arms in shackles of brimstone, the one thing that blocked her powers. He turned away as his niece was dragged away, kicking and screaming.

* * *

Sitting on the thin mattress, Ashley could only breathe deeply, her fingers digging into the mattress like claws. A brimstone shackle was locked on her wrist, blocking her powers. There was no window, and the door had a small viewing slit that was closed, leaving her in darkness.

Her emotions were running crazy, anger and rage most prevalent as she tried to regain control of them. Her mind couldn't plan an escape while her anger was unchecked, yet she had nothing to take her anger out on. Except the wall, but her knuckles were cut enough from having tried it.

"Ashley," someone whispered. She glanced at the viewing slit, seeing the eyes of a knight. Unlike the two who put her here, this was one of the good knights.

"What is it?" she sighed, her anger supressed enough so she didn't snap at him.

"I just overheard your uncle talking with those two knights who brought you here. He told them to contact someone called Relak. From what I know, Relak is the leader of the bandits along the Lem-Tamo. He mentioned to them that he wanted Ashton dealt with," he whispered, opening the cell door.

"What? Ashton left for Lehema? Why?" Ashley questioned, sitting as the knight unlocked the brimstone shackle.

"It was because Lehema asked for our help to deal with bandits. Ashton and a few others left early this morning and should be near Lehema now. Seems your uncle is working to coordinate the bandit raids of other cities, like the Tamola raid last night," he added, watching as Ashley stood, rubbing feeling back into her wrist.

"I'm going after him. I'd suggest you head to Tamola before my uncle finds out you helped me escape," she whispered, a fireball forming in her palm. As the knight left, she threw it, the explosion not even fazing her as it ripped the wall apart. It was still daylight, but the clouds were darker and thunder could be heard in the distance.

She started running, reaching the streets in minutes. She stopped at an alley, picking up one of her swords, before running on, hearing the hum of hover scooters behind her. People were clearing out of her way, hiding in doorways, stores and alleys as the chase went on. It was only at the gates that she stopped.

In front of her were at least ten knights, while behind her six were on hover scooters. All of them were armed, and they had more combat training. Her power over fire was the only advantage she had, but the threat of collateral damage loomed in her mind.

As her foes moved closer, she made up her mind. People had cleared out, and most of the buildings were weapon stores. Breathing slowly and deeply, she started levitating off the ground, light purple energy coming from the buildings and into her body.

A person who can control an element is powerful on their own, but sometimes, in certain situations, they need help controlling that power. The purple energy was coming from special gem stones, used as a power source for hover scooters and weapons. These gems also allowed an elemental to build up phenomenal power in one go, amounts which could potentially kill them without the gems' help.

As Ashley hovered there, a ball of red flames surrounded her, slowly getting smaller and smaller. Some knights on hover scooters opened fire, the bullets only melting in the flames.

"Burn with me!" Ashley yelled, the ball of flames exploding, sending balls of fiery rock into the sky, as well as knocking her assailants flying, most unconscious or unable to move.

She started walking, slowly leaving her former home of Vulecan. She didn't look back as fiery rock rained down on the storage buildings, igniting them instantly as well as blowing some of them apart. She just kept walking as the rain started, extinguishing the fires and soaking her clothes and hair, yet failing to dampen the burning determination in her eyes.


	5. Michael and Miranda:Howling

The city of Vamhillen. The largest of the six cities, a thriving metropolis built within swamp land, making the city an architectural wonder. The key problem is street gangs, all too many teenagers getting caught up.

As the gang members vastly outnumber the police force, bounty hunters are often called in to deal with high up gang leaders. The most feared of these bounty hunters is known as "The Wolf".

* * *

_Two years ago_

The room was bathed in blood. It seemed almost too much to have come from one person, but there had been but one murder. The mutilated body of a man lay in the room, anger, rage and shock the final emotions he'd felt.

Two men dressed in suits stood there, in awe of the scene before them, they simply stared at the girl in front of them, her midnight black hair, her clothes and white skin stained with red. Her violet eyes were dark, giving no emotions away. A single knife was in her hand, dripping with crimson. She paid no attention as she was taken away, her mind flooded with emotion while her face remained impassive.

* * *

_Present Day_

Michael Davidson. A fairly ordinary name, one that didn't scare anyone. Unless, like few people, they knew his alias. His long brown hair, dark brown eyes and strong muscles were subtle hints, all pointing to his second name.

It was bright and sunny, yet mist from the swamp that surrounded the city still crept in. His long black coat flowed behind him, a simple button up shirt underneath. His black trousers and boots helped him blend in among gang members, letting him go about his business like normal.

The police station was close by, very few people milling around outside. No-one paid any real attention as he walked inside, though some gang members eyed him suspiciously before quickly leaving.

"Michael. Prompt as usual," Commissioner Striker remarked, sitting at his desk. Often, he would be seen in the streets, monitoring gang activity, his tall, strong physique demanding authority.

"You said this wasn't a case of bringing down a key player. I'm interested in this change of pace," Michael muttered, leaning against the doorpost. He wasn't being disrespectful; he just wasn't comfortable to sit in front of people unless he was interrogating them.

"It all links to the murder of William Simmons two years ago," Striker began, pausing when Michael twitched.

"Simmons? What about his murder?" Michael questioned, his usual aloofness gone as he stepped closer to the desk.

"Well, it turns out he was murdered by his own daughter, Miranda. Looking at medical records and psyche evaluations, it's easy to tell he abused that poor girl to madness," Striker continued, pausing to let Michael take in this information.

"Madness? I never noticed any of that," Michael mumbled, bowing his head in thought.

"I take it you two were close?" Striker stated, looking at the bounty hunter.

"We were. We were dating until about a year before her father's murder. I never saw her after that day," Michael sighed, looking up and at the file on Striker's desk.

"There's a reason for that. When her father was murdered, two boys from the same gang as him cleaned up. Seems they took Miranda. We only gathered this information recently," the commissioner explained, sliding the file to Michael.

"And you want me to find her," Michael questioned, turning to leave when Striker nodded.

* * *

The room was small, a single light bulb flickering in the centre. Sitting in one corner was a person. Her long black hair was like a raven's feathers, reflecting blues and purples. Her black tank top was covered in dried blood and dirt, as were her black skinny jeans and boots. On her pale white arms were black, elbow length fishnet gloves and spiked bracelets.

She looked up as a door opened, her violet eyes practically glowing behind her veil of hair. She glared up at the man, an audible hiss coming from her mouth as he grabbed her, pulling her to her feet and shoving her out the door. All too quickly they arrived at another room, this one larger. Again, she was shoved inside.

A brute of a man walked over, grabbing her by the throat and pinning her to a wall. She didn't bother to struggle, taking it in silence.

"No pathetic requests to let you go?" the man sneered, tightening his grip.

"Why don't you die? Life is meaningless, especially yours," the girl muttered, a dark smile on her face as the man, now angered, threw her into a wall, breaking a few bones and leaving cracks there.

"You wanna die?" the man snarled, knife in his hand as he stood over the girl.

"I'd prefer it if you died first," the girl sighed, barely registering the pain. She only watched as the man knelt down, running the knife down her arms and any bare piece of her torso, blood running across her skin.

She simply grinned with insane glee as black tendrils ran from her fingers, unseen by her tormenter. They snaked across his body, and yet they were still unnoticed. She laughed as the tendrils stabbed into the man's flesh, piercing though his arms, legs, chest and heart, before he fell over, his face contorted with shock and pain.

She didn't register anything as two men stormed in, grabbing her arms roughly and dragging her out of the room. One slammed open the door to her cell before they threw her in, locking the door hurriedly before she could get up.

"Damn it. What is wrong with me?" she whispered, tears flowing from her eyes, mixing with her own blood on the floor.

* * *

With speed born from years of training, Michael was running along city streets, members of one of the street gangs chasing him. People moved aside, no-one wanting to get in the gang's way. Several gang members were teenagers, no older than sixteen.

Turning into an alley, Michael slowed down, letting the youths catch up. He stopped at the dead end, turning to deliver a powerful punch to one boy's jaw, knocking him stumbling backwards, before kicking another boy in the gut, crumpling to the ground clutching his stomach. The third member was sent flying by a powerful blast of air, a soft boom echoing in the alley.

The last member was backed against a wall, watching as Michael stepped towards him, the air rippling in his hand. He curled into a ball, clearly the youngest and not wanting to be a member of the gang. Processing this, Michael sighed, kneeling down and offering a reassuring hand.

"Hey kid. I can tell you don't want to be a member of the Swamp Mist gang," he muttered, his other hand outstretched behind him, ready to deal with anyone who presented a threat.

"They threatened my family, said they'd take my sisters away," the boy whimpered, looking up from his knees. Tears were starting to fall, showing his fear and worry for his family.

"I can help you get protection. There are some people I know who can keep your family safe. I'm more than willing to ask them to do so, but that means you need to do something in return for me," Michael reassured. "I need you to tell me where the Swamp Mist's leaders hide. They have a friend of mine, and I need to save her," he added, pausing to get a response.

"Their hideout is near the south city wall. It should be one of the largest buildings there," the boy sighed, watching as Michael stood up.

"Thanks kid. The man who can protect your family is called Mr Morrison. He'll be around sometime this evening. And don't worry about these punks. They're going to a nice jail cell," Michael muttered, leaving the alley as police hover scooters arrived.

* * *

The south of the city was normally where gangs had their hideouts due to closeness to the swamps and marshes. This was where they managed to bring in most of their property, be it drugs or weapons.

The largest building looked abandoned, no sign of life inside. Outside, however, was where Valera Winslow stood guard, a machete hanging by her hip and a rifle in hand. Her dark grey eyes surveyed the area, watching for movement. Her dirty blond hair fell over her face, blocking her vision.

In the second it took to fix her hair, a fist knocked her back while her rifle fell, a booted foot preventing her from picking it up.

"Michael Davidson. What's a little wolf like you doing here?" she sneered. Michael just stood, his dark brown eyes meeting hers.

"I have someone I need to meet inside. Then I'm taking them with me," he muttered, almost emotionless as he spoke, watching Valera grab her machete, the blade glistening in the limited moonlight.

"Sorry, but you need an appointment. I'd be glad to help inside in a body bag though," she taunted, swinging her blade at him, only for it to be blocked by a metal armguard, the sound echoing as sparks flew.

"You seem like the kind of girl I'd enjoy fighting. But like I said, I have someone to meet," Michael sighed, air rippling as he brought his free hand up, a blast of air knocking the young woman flying into a wall, knocking her unconscious.

Moving quickly, he dragged her unconscious body around the side of the building, laying her beside a metal pole before pulling out a pair of handcuffs, trapping her arms around it before, for extra measure, taking her scarf and pulling it around her mouth. She came to quickly, her muffled screams going unheard as Michael walked away.

* * *

Miranda woke to a feeling of light headedness, lifting her head only to find she wasn't lying on the floor. Looking around, she saw the rope around her wrists, binding them to a plank of wood. Looking down, she found her ankles tied to another plank.

"Why am I tied to a cross?" she growled, violet eyes glowing dangerously. She looked away as a light was shone right at her, almost blinding her. She looked back to see two men standing there, one of them holding a bat.

"Because, my dear, we've discovered how you're killing my men. That's why you're bound and why there's a spotlight shining on you," the unarmed man explained, making a hand gesture. A cry of pain came from the girl as the bat was swung at her stomach. "And now you're going to pay for killing William and my men," the man added.

Each blow came quickly. She could barely hold in a pained scream as the bat hit her in the stomach, chest and occasionally in the head. Wood splintered from the bat, digging into her skin, adding to the torment. Her pale skin was covered in purple and blue by the time the man stopped.

"Is that….all you've got?" Miranda coughed, blood running from her head.

"Not even close. That was only for killing my men. What I'm about to do is for killing William," the unarmed man explained, taking a knife from his colleague before walking slowly towards her.

"Go ahead. I'm ready to die anyway," Miranda spat, defiance in every word.

"Killing you would only end your pain. I wish to prolong it as long as possible," the man sneered, holding the knife close to her left eye. He ran it down her face, the blade drawing blood as it passed over her closed eye, a crescent shaped cut running down her face. "Let's see how you like having one eye," he added, aiming the blade just in front of her left eye.

"Over my dead body," a male voice whispered, the man flying backwards, knocking over the spotlight, casting Miranda in darkness. Her violet eyes easily picked out Michael in the blackness, following him as he cut her bonds. She fell to the floor, barely able to stand up before more members of the Swamp Mist burst in, armed and ready to attack.

"So, this goth is your meeting? She your girlfriend?" Valera mocked, pointing her assault rifle at the bounty hunter.

"Ex-girlfriend. Not that that's any of your business," Michael snarled, about to attack when black tendrils snaked out, stabbing at least five men in the chest, while others went right through men's heads, killing them instantly, leaving Valera the only one standing.

"What in the…." Valera gasped, watching as violet eyes burned through the shadows. Michael simply stood there, frozen in shock at the ten dead bodies in front of him. His head turned slowly, watching as Miranda grinned madly, walking closer to the light both he and Valera stood in.

"Don't count yourself lucky to live. I plan to kill you so slowly and painfully, letting you bleed out oh so slowly," Miranda muttered, moving slowly closer to the light. Valera and Michael were frozen in fear, watching the goth's slow, zombie-like movements.

"Miranda, stop this," Michael stuttered as Miranda stepped into the light, her bruises now almost gone and the cut over her eye now a scar. Her teeth shone in the light as she locked her eyes on Valera before collapsing, her body crashing to the ground as she started crying.

"What is wrong with me?" she screamed, her insanity disappearing in an instant.

"Your power over shadows…it must take control while you're in darkness. You couldn't control yourself," Michael muttered, cautiously walking towards her. He ignored Valera as she ran, desperate to get away. His attention was on the pale, distraught girl lying on the ground.

"Your handcuffs," she sobbed, her onyx eyes locked on the bounty hunter.

"I'm not going to treat you like…"

"Damn it Michael! My powers are useless if I'm bound in any way! It's the only way I'll be able to stop myself from killing you at night!" she yelled, her tear stained face glaring at him angrily, forcing him to comply.

"Alright. But I will help you gain control over them," he mumbled, cuffing her arms in front of her and leading the way out, leaving the corpses behind for either the police or the gang's clean-up crew to deal with.


	6. Sean and Loretta:Resonance

The mountain city of Runeha. The city is surrounded by sheer drops on all sides, save for the main gate where the five highways spread out into the mountain range. It snows all year round, yet everyone dresses as though it was summer during summer months.

All in all, everything is normal in the city. Crime rate is average, and the people in charge, while not perfect, have maintained peace and fairness. This hasn't stopped one vigilante from dealing out justice to criminals, despite the lack of support that they have.

* * *

Sean Mitchell was, by most people's standards, a loner. He lived high up in the mountains, only ever entering Runeha for supplies and during special occasions. It was supplies that brought him down this time as he walked down the Run-Vul Highway.

His hair was boyishly long and light brown, some almost covering his left eye. His eyes were light green, constantly on the lookout, as though he was expecting an ambush. His attire consisted of a green shirt, blue jeans and brown boots. On his back was a large war-hammer, a weapon befitting his strength.

As he came to the gates, he relaxed, allowing his guard to drop while he was in the city. It was summer in the mountains, and everyone was dressed appropriately.

As he passed through the streets, he noticed one girl paying particular attention to him. He rolled his eyes, noticing it was the same girl who watched him every time he entered the city.

She had long blond hair and icy blue eyes that were always behind glasses. She always wore something that looked gothic in nature, this time wearing black combat trousers, a black hoodie and fingerless gloves. Every time, though, she wore black boots and was never seen without her gloves.

"I know you're watching me," he called out, eyes fixed on her.

"So? Is it a crime to watch someone who never associates with anyone?" she retorted, leaning against a wall.

"No. But then, you don't know the reason. I don't live in these city walls," Sean muttered, continuing on his way.

"Is that so? Where do you live then?" the girl questioned, now walking alongside him.

"What is this, an interrogation?" Sean sighed, chuckling as he walked.

"Maybe it is. What's your name?" the girl inquired, a small smirk gracing her features.

"Sean Mitchell. And yours?" he answered, stopping outside a store.

"Loretta Service. Unofficial protector of Runeha," she whispered, glancing around in case someone heard her.

"So you're the vigilante around here. I think the police are more than capable of handling criminals here," Sean muttered, about to walk off.

"Maybe, but I can't shake the feeling there's something else at play here. As someone with powers, I guess it's my duty to uncover it," Loretta answered turning to leave.

"Whatever you say. As long as they don't bother with outside the city, I'm just fine with it," Sean sighed, entering the store to buy his supplies.

* * *

That night, most of the city was asleep, the fresh falling snow discouraging most from being out and about. It didn't discourage Loretta as she stood on the rooftops, ears and eyes constantly looking out for trouble. She sighed, taking advantage of the peace and quiet to look over the city and across the mountains spread out before her.

A scream echoed through the night, putting the teen on full alert. Blades appeared on her arm, glowing slightly before becoming like metal. She turned towards the source of the scream, sprinting over rooftops and leaping across alleyways before stopping, looking down.

What she saw was a murder scene. A young woman and man were lying in blood drenched snow, gunshot wounds in their backs. A man with a gun had just vanished out the alleyway, casting a quick glance at her.

"Stop right there!" Loretta yelled, sprinting after the suspect while her arm blades vanished. She'd just gotten to the alley's end when the man rammed her from the side, knocking her from her feet and a few feet across the ground. Before she could get up, he was on top of her, his knee on her stomach while he injected something into her neck, causing her to black out almost instantly.

* * *

Though it was late, Sean was still awake, sitting in a meditative trance inside a basic wooden hut. It had the basics, even so far as plumbing. He was sitting on the small porch, his legs crossed and his eyes closed. Just in front of him was a massive white gemstone, its power the very reason for the year round snow.

In an instant, he was on his feet, in combat stance, while sweat ran down his face, all sign of his meditative calm gone. Breathing heavily, he looked down towards Runeha, almost sensing something wasn't right.

"Loretta, I really hope you were wrong about what you said," he muttered, slinging his hammer onto his back before sprinting towards the city.

* * *

A sharp, stinging sensation woke Loretta from unconsciousness, the blond haired girl taking account of her surroundings. The room was dark, save for the single light bulb dangling above her. Her arms and legs were strapped into a chair, rendering her unable to use her blades.

"I trust you wish to know why you're here?" a deep, charismatic voice muttered, another light turning on above the speaker.

He looked elegant, his haircut no doubt expensive and his eyes cold and grey. His attire was that of a good businessman, while his demeanour sounded like that of a leader. He sat behind a plain, empty wooden desk, giving nothing away as to who he was.

"Well no, I'd quite like to order a pizza. What do you think?" Loretta retorted, testing the straps as she spoke.

"Feisty, aren't you? Very fitting for someone of your line of work," the man replied with a smile, still calm and composed as he stood up.

"Why don't you let me go, and I'll show you how good a vigilante I am," she growled, blue eyes glaring as the man stalked calmly towards her. She gasped as the back of his hand met her cheek, tasting the metal tang of blood in her mouth.

"You are powerless here, Loretta Service. We know who you are, what you are, as well as every person you've helped lock away. And it's your kind we intend to deal with, freak," the man spat, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him.

"So what? You plan to kill me? Stronger men than you have tried, and look how they ended up," she taunted, groaning in pain as her head met the back of the chair.

"Those men didn't know who they were dealing with. Unlike them, I know about your powers, and how to block them," the man mocked as two of his subordinates walked in, unstrapping Loretta before carrying her away.

* * *

"Before I'm rid of you, I believe it best to know the name of your exterminator. My name is Harold Bertrand. Not that you'll find much use for such information," the man mocked, standing outside of a glass tank, watching as chains were wrapped around the vigilante.

"You'd be surprised. I'll bet you'll regret giving me your name," she sighed, hiding her fear behind smart comments.

"We shall see. Hope you don't mind, but we didn't have any sharks. Too cliché and quick," Harold sneered, watching as the girl was pushed into the tank. In seconds, she was already struggling for air, sinking deeper and deeper before hitting the bottom, unable to move or breathe.

It was after Loretta hit the bottom that a shape splashed into the tank, hitting the bottom with a ground-shattering boom, the cracks in the floor spreading up the tank's glass walls before water leaked. After a second, the tank burst, water crashing against the glass window of the room Harold was standing in, threatening to break it.

Looking up while gasping for air, Loretta saw Sean's green eyes locked on hers, concern obvious. With a single motion, he snapped the chains, freeing her quickly.

"Where did you come from?" she questioned, the blades quickly forming on her arms. Similar blades appeared on the bottom of her boots. As more men ran towards them, Sean grabbed a large hammer on his back, easily holding it in one hand.

"Sensed something was wrong, wasn't surprised to find you were right in the middle of it," Sean retorted, leaping at the attackers with his hammer held high, slamming it onto the ground to cause a shockwave, knocking most men flying. A gunshot echoed, the bullet hitting silvery skin as Sean's second special ability kicked in.

He called it 'silver shielding'. For short periods of time, he could cover himself in silver energy, protecting him from most forms of attack, leaving him nearly indestructible. He was about to turn and attack the shooter, only to watch as Loretta ran at him instead, slicing the gun in half before, with her foot blade gone, kicking him in the face, knocking him across the room.

"Not bad," Sean muttered, about to attack when a final attacker ran at Loretta as she stood, her back facing him.

"Thanks," she replied, elbowing the man in the gut before aiming her foot behind her, hitting the man's groin, before landing a punch in his face, knocking him to the ground. "Hello Mr Bertrand. Told you that you shouldn't have told me your name," she taunted, casting the man a backward glance.

"Police will be on their way. I think its best you stayed with me," Sean said, turning to leave.

"Why? I have a house," Loretta questioned, following the older teen.

"You live alone. Besides, he can identify you, so it would be best you keep out of Runeha," Sean explained, eyes ahead of him as he walked.

"Fine. Be nice to have some company," Loretta sighed, both of them quickening their pace when they heard police coming towards them.

* * *

The gem felt cold to the touch. It's white surface glowing faintly like the sun over fresh snow. Even though she'd just touched it for a second, Loretta could feel as though something was alive in the gem, it's energies resonating around her.

"Glad to see you like it. It is a thing of beauty," Sean called out, having just came out onto the porch of his cabin.

"Yeah, it is beautiful. Almost answers why you live out here alone just to protect it," Loretta sighed, glancing back at the guardian.

"My father never said before he vanished. He just said that my family have been protecting it for years, ever since the first days of peace in Nehamack," he explained, sitting in a meditative position, closing his eyes and concentrating.

"Couldn't hurt," Loretta shrugged, sitting behind Sean and taking a meditative position. As she meditated, she could feel her power coursing through her, as if it was electricity flowing through a circuit. As the snow began to fall, she could feel the jewel's energies around her, healing her of any wounds from earlier.

"We'd best get inside. Looks like a blizzard's brewing," Sean sighed, helping the girl to her feet, both of them going inside just as the storm began, covering where they'd been sitting in snow within seconds.


End file.
